featherborn | Returning to Land

Returning to Land

The eagle circles one final time over the trees, wings stretched to their full. Freedom at its best. There is a slow spiralling dissent onto a tree in the middle of the forest. Moments later the eagle vanishes, and there is blond woman sitting in its place. Katya settles down on the study branch, swinging her legs while she reaches for the backpack she left there earlier.

She ties her hair back and slides the old faithful baseball down shading her face. Well, back to be landlocked for another day or so. She rips open a Mars bar with her teeth and toasts the skies and spits the wrapper to the ground cursing her employers at the circus.

If she could have her way, she would live in the forest where she could fly every day and ignore the rest of the world.

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He could certainly do with a few balancing lessons she thinks as she turns to see who else might be intruding into her forest. As she turns back and looks over her shoulder, her brow furrows and she spins around, utterly comfortable on the branch. Her eyes dart around for a moment.

"That might make the top twenty," she says to herself and shrugs it off. Perhaps he is as solitary as her and has seen quite enough. She goes back to gather her things and take the two mile hike back to the city outskirts where she rents a cheap apartment. It isn't that she couldn't afford a bit better but the location suits her.

She's got quite a set routine, performing at the performance only circus in the town 5 nights a week on the highwire and escaping to the countryside by the day.

Ah, the smell of sawdust, animals and buttered popcorn...

It is a few nights later, that a certain scruffy-looking young man takes a seat in one of the front rows at the circus, happily letting himself be entertained by all flavors of performers. Though when the woman he had called Eagle-Eyes steps into the ring, his attention does sharpen.

The costume is glitzy, feathery and sky blue. Enough to make her stand out in any crowd, to make women want to be her, for men to want to forget that they have been dragged to some show they never wanted to see in the first place.

Katya's smile is dazzling as she steps across the ring waving to the audience. From the front row, she takes a matching umbrella from one of their audience plants and twirls it. She looks up, making sure all the attention is on her and she starts as she catches sight of the disappearing man.

What a coincidence she thinks as she tips him a wink and moves on with her show.

One of the wires supporting the posts is longer than the others and at a less steep angle. She makes her way to it, and with no net for this part calmly makes her way to the top. Her foot 'slips' for a second half way up and she wobbles dramatically, letting the audience ooh and ahh before she completes the ascent.

Up there, she is at home, blowing kisses as she slides into splits. The rest runs as smooth as ever, even the final backflip. When she comes down, she finds him again and thee curtsey is directed to him before she heads backstage, where most of the performers can be found after the show to complete the meet and greets.

Unlike most of the audience, the scruffy young man doesn't gasp for breath at her apparent near fall. He remains relaxed in his seat, munching on popcorn from a dwindling bag, grinning at her performance though he does remain at rapt attention.

After the show he disposes of the now empty and somewhat grease-stained paper bag and brushes himself off before he makes his way backstage, somehow almost unnoticed as he weaved his way between the various performers until he finds her. He had responded to that quick little wink with one of his own, after all, so of course he ought to go say hi properly.

"Bravo," he says once he's found her, clapping his hands slowly. "One might think you actually belonged up there in the air for real."

She knew he would come and he doesn't have the advantage of surprise this time. "Thank you sir," she says with amusement. "It's the closest thing I know of to flying." She spreads her arms, letting the fake feathers hang down. "These wings are only clipped be the height of the roof."

"Such a shame, clipped wings." He shakes his head gently, mildly amused at the banter. "Good thing that you have other wings that aren't clipped, then."

"When I get a chance to stretch them." She pauses for a moment to take a photograph with a young girl before she turns back with a mischievous smile. Carefully she plucks once small blue feather from her costume and passes it over to him.

"For your own wings," she says, gently goading him for more information about himself.

He laughs, looking a bit sheepish as he takes it, twirling it between his fingers on one hand, scratching at the back of his head with the other and ruffling up his mane of dark hair more than it already is.

"This is too big for mine, though. Much too big." For one set of wings, anyway. "You'd fly circles around me."

She cocks her head on one side considering this. "I hope you are not a pigeon," she teases. She really can't abide pigeons in any form but he doesn't have some annoying personality that would match up with a pigeon.

Hmm.... "Because I would like to fly circles around you for one flight."

"Ha! No, not a pigeon." He grins and shakes his head, entirely amused by the question. "A fair bit smaller, actually. You, um, don't get any predatory instincts to go with your wings do you, Eagle-Eyes?"

Intriguing, small and unobtrusive. Her smile sharpens, "Only when someone pisses me off." And then you really do have to watch out for her. "You are safe for the moment.

Her eyes are full of curiosity. "Is it a bird that sticks out or that blends in so easily it vanishes?" She hasn't forgotten he took off on her before!

"Only for the moment? Oh dear, well, I guess that's reassuring." Still all smiles and all amusement with the light teasing.

He lifts the blue feather, studying it as he spins in between thumb and forefinger. "Let's just say that not only is this too big, but also far too colorful."

"Well I don't know you very well yet," she counters, enjoying this encounter. It is nice to meet someone who can understand one aspect of her life.

"As small as a starling? Hold that though." She turns politely to answer a few questions, and pose for another photograph. They get a brighter, faker smile. She turns back.

"Well am I close?"

This really isn't the most relaxing place to talk, but he waits patiently while she tends to the adoring crowd.

"You're getting there," he admits once she's turned her attention back to him. He takes a step closer and offers her his free hand for a shake. "Actual introductions, maybe? I'm Casper, and I'm but a simple sparrow."

She takes it and shakes it firmly. "Katya, it is good to meet you properly Casper." Her hand drops away and she smiles softly. "I am fond of sparrows. They remind me that birds can survive in the city."

She glances at her watch. "I will be free from my duties in twenty minutes if you would like to buy me a coffee."

Indeed, sparrows can even thrive in a city. That was why he chose that form for himself, many years ago.

He's by no means been lethargic throughout this exchange, but he perks up visibly at the mention of coffee. "Now you're speaking my language." He flashes her a grin. "I'll just go wait outside then. Come find me when you're done."

She grins back, "I won't be long. Don't disappear on me, again." This is her least favourite bit of the evening. Too many people, too much noise and claustrophobia. The second her time is up she excuses herself and slips off to get ready.

When she emerges to join him on the street, she is neat and tidy but not wearing anything that would draw attention to herself. She turns in the small crowd, eyes darting restlessly looking for him.

This time he hasn't disappeared. He's just nearby, perched on a section of railing, idly spinning the blue feather between his fingers as he waits. When he notices that she's arrived he hops down and approaches. "Good to go?"

"Good," she agrees, her shoulders relaxing as she spots a route that sees them weaving through the crowd for only a moment. "Lets get out of here. I know a good spot."

Her fingers shift restlessly and she hides it, shifting them to draw her hair up into a bun. "So, did you choose the sparrow or did someone else choose it for you?"

Being fairly observant he does notice her restless hands. But her being such a new acquaintance, he decides that the best he can do is probably to just turn a blind eye to it.

"I've spent a lot of time in cities," he begins as an explanation. "Sparrows just melt into the background noise, you know? No-one would pay me any attention. Besides, I would not give up flying, not even for a day."

"I hate the days I cannot get out of the city," she admits as she turns down a side street to a small cafe. "They make. No that is not correct English...ask that I do the matinee on a Saturday."

She tilts her head skywards. "I could stay up there for days looking down on the world."

"Yeah..." There's a dreamlike quality to his voice there, that says very clearly that he knows exactly what she means. While he's never been a stranger to just kicking back in a couch to watch a god movie, he's always spent much of his free time up in the sky. Even before.

That earns him a very warm smile. Katya is beginning to see him as a kindred spirit when it comes to shape shifting. When they reach the counter she puts down enough to cover both. "My treat," she says firmly. It seems only fair since he waited around for her.

And he can always return the favour another time if he cares to.

He was prepared to pay, but he's smart enough not to argue the issue. If she wants to pay, she can pay.

Having gotten their coffees - his black and unsweetened and strong and plenty of it - they find a table out of the way. "So what about you, then. Was the eagle a conscious choice?"

"No," she says briefly. "I am not sure what I would have chosen, I only know I would have picked a bird." She wraps her fingers around the mug and blows on it. Even though it is still too warm she welcomes the burning sensation of the hot liquid as she swallows it.

"Though I would never want another form now."

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